I'll Be Seeing You

Twenty-Six.

I wasn't as sad this time, watching the ocean disappear in the rearview mirror as we made our way back to our mountain paradise. Because now, the ocean wasn't just a getaway—it was our second home. A place we could return to anytime we needed its peace. Mark and Tommy had truly outdone themselves, turning our dream into reality. Rene and I were blessed beyond words.

Back home, we slipped right back into our chaotic lives—chasing toddlers, managing the house, running errands, and tackling a never-ending list of chores. Abby bounced between our two houses, always ready to help even when we told her she didn't have to. If only she knew how deeply loved and appreciated she was.

The week after we returned from vacation, Rene agreed to watch Waylon for the afternoon while I slipped out to see my OB and run a few errands. Once everything was done, I made a spontaneous stop at the mall to pick up some candles and a few little treats—and for old times' sake, I decided to get my hair and nails done.

As I sat in the salon chair, feeling the color soak into my hair, I smiled softly, remembering the first time I came here. I had only been living with Mark for a couple of months. I'd been out and about and decided I deserved a little pampering. Thinking about the girl I was back then— was bittersweet.

She was hopeless. She was scared. She was starting to believe she'd never find true love or happiness—that all her dreams were just that. Dreams. She had no idea what was coming. That through all the storms, the darkness, every hard moment, there would one day be light. She didn't know it then, but one day, she would have everything.

After I got my nails done, I stopped by the food court to grab a salad. I sat quietly, watching people pass by—couples holding hands, stealing soft kisses here and there, thinking no one was looking. I smiled, hoping they'd one day find the kind of love I had. That they'd know the happiness I hold now, even after everything I'd been through.

Before heading to the parking garage, I stopped in the bathroom near the exit. One of the joys of being a mom—your bladder has a mind of its own. As I stepped out of the stall and looked into the mirror, I swear I saw her. Standing behind me like she had so long ago was Kasey, her face soft with a smile.

My mind flashed back to that quiet moment on the pier just a week ago. I'd decided then I needed closure—just like I found with Chris. But I didn't toss Kasey into the ocean. She didn't deserve to be thrown away like he was. No, I knew what I had to do.

Adrenaline surged through me as I made my way to the Jeep. I loaded my bags into the passenger seat, then pulled onto the highway. I hadn't gone to the funeral, but I still kept the clipping of her obituary tucked away safely at home. The funeral home and cemetery were listed at the bottom.

I drove through the city and across town, past the neighborhoods I hadn't seen in years, to the place where her mother still lived. Just a couple of miles from her house was a little church with a cemetery tucked quietly behind it. I pulled through the iron gate and stopped just past the entrance, realizing I had no idea where to go.

It wasn't a massive cemetery, but big enough that finding her could take all day. I rolled forward slowly, scanning the names etched into the stones as if one might call out to me. I followed the winding gravel path toward the back, where the trees grew taller and the stones grew older. That's when I saw her.

A woman knelt at a grave, laying flowers gently across the headstone. She pressed her hand to the cool stone, kissed her fingertips, and whispered something I couldn't hear. Then she turned, walking slowly toward a small blue sedan. It was Kasey's mom. I had never met her in person, but I'd seen pictures. The resemblance was impossible to miss. Her presence hit me like a wave—familiar but distant, a quiet echo of a life I'd once been part of. She must visit often.